Behind a Green Curtain
by TheLittleAvengerInTraining
Summary: Draco Malfoy's got a task to finish, but he keeps getting distracted by a little redhead. Takes place during HBP. I don't think this is T, but there's a bit of language. You've been warned. D/G. Complete finally.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone!**

**I finally, finally found the inspiration to rewrite/finish this story. Some of you have been waiting patiently for over a year, and you're amazing. Thanks so much.**

**Please let me know what you think, guys! Requests are taken into consideration ;D Thank you!**

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

* * *

Flourish and Botts.

If he had never gone to Flourish and Botts when that fool Lockhart was showing off his ugly face, maybe it never would have started. But he had to be there.

That was the first time Draco Malfoy had seen Ginny Weasley, the youngest of the the dratted Weasley clan. Her brothers had been bad enough - one after another after another - he had been to the Ministry enough times with his father to catch glimpses of them on Arthur Weasley's desk, or some such rot. But then to realize that they had a girl on the bottom, and that she was a very pretty girl, was just horrifying. To top it all off, she liked Potter, or so went the rumors at Hogwarts.

Draco was enraged at himself for thinking her pretty, at the time. After all, he hated the Weasleys with the same regularity with which he loved his breakfast. But everytime he saw Ginny, he couldn't help turning his head to look after her. He didn't talk to her all year, he kept his insults pointed at her brother and Potter and Granger. But he soon gave up on trying to convince himself he didn't like her.

He liked her.

The years passed at Hogwarts. He never talked to her, but he had a serious crush on her. He watched her grow up from a distance, watched her go through a number of Gryffindor boyfriends, watched her excel at Charms and fail at Potions, watched her play Quidditch, with a little tug in his heart. But he was also growing up. The Dark Lord had returned, and his father expected much more of him, and his mother would only look on with fear in her eyes and nod when his father told him to do something.

He told Draco to become a Death Eater, and like an idiot, Draco did it. He endured the pain of the Dark Mark burned onto his arm, and he watched as the reincarnated Voldemort and his deranged aunt Bellatrix took residence in his old family home. He had never exactly wanted to be a Death Eater, but Voldemort required it, and you did not say no to the Dark Lord.

And he returned to Hogwarts with the shame of his father's failure and the responsibility of his task settled on his shoulders. Everything at Hogwarts - lessons, Quidditch, even Potter, seemed inconsequential. Everything but her.

He had thought she was pretty, then he'd had a crush on her, then he'd started to go mad for her, but now she was just one of the things that threatened to drive his mind over the edge. He'd made a plan, but he was struggling to carry it out; he couldn't face the task of _killing_ Dumbledore. And Ginny's life went on as if nothing were wrong; she seemed lighthearted whenever he saw her.

He followed her round sometimes. It was crazy, it was pathetic, but he couldn't help it. He'd watch where she went, and he'd go too. She would go to the Quidditch pitch to fly alone, and he would watch. She'd go to the library to do her homework, and he would watch. She would go down to the edge of the forest to sit and think, and he would watch.

Watching Ginny kept him sane and it drove him insane.

He wanted so very badly for her to be _his_. Not so he could shag her, or brag about her to his friends, but for the simple reason that he wanted someone by his side, someone to talk to, someone to laugh with him or cry with him or just...just be _there. _She became something of an obsession for him. He would talk to her sometimes in his head, and make up her answers, when he was alone, and he would feel a little - a tiny, tiny little bit better.

And the days and the weeks ticked by and he did not kill Dumbledore and the cabinet remained in disrepair.

Then there came the morning that overturned his life completely.


	2. Chapter 2

It was after breakfast, and he was dawdling in leaving the Great Hall. His friends, or those whom he used to call friends before his father's disgrace, had left him, and he was as usual pretending not to notice or care. He did not feel like speaking to Crabbe or to Goyle, and he had told them to go on without him.

"Malfoy!"

He turned, and to his shock and utter horror Ginny Weasley was hurrying towards him, a red braid bouncing. The last thing he wanted to do, ever, was speak to Ginny Weasley. It was also the only thing he'd wanted to do in months...years, maybe...

"Hey!" Ginny snapped her fingers in his face, and he started.

"You've been following me around," Ginny stated, tilting her head to look into his face. Up close she was even shorter than she looked. "I want it to stop."

Following. Her. Around. Think, Draco, think. Don't stand and stare. It doesn't work like that. He struggled to process her words, and a wave of horror washed over him. She'd noticed him watching her, then. It had grown serious, problematic. It was over, everything was over...

"What's _wrong_ with you?" Ginny demanded, looking angry.

Draco did not answer her. He walked around her and headed for the great doors at the end of the hall.

"Malfoy!"

He left her standing where she was, not looking back at her. His breath was coming hard; he rushed to the bathroom and shut himself in a stall.

If there was one thing that had kept his whole world from tilting when the Dark Lord infiltrated his home and the Dark Mark had been burned onto his arm and he had been instructed to kill the pillar of Hogwarts, Dumbledore, it had been the thought that at least there would still be Ginny. He could still watch her and feel frustratedly secure in the fact that she would never know how he felt about her.

Now that had all changed. He was shocked at how horribly unsettled he felt, like he was spinning to his untimely death. All because of a few words a girl had said...

No, not just a girl, Ginny Weasley.

When he felt normal, Draco left the bathroom and then left the building. He went to the deserted courtyard and sat, emptying his mind of thought and feeling and just staring at the bleak landscape. He did not go to any of his classes that day, nor did he go to lunch or supper. He wasn't hungry. He avoided everyone all day.

In the common room that night, no one asked him where he'd been. That was the kind of love and compassion his friends showed him.

* * *

The next day he got all sorts of notes, scoldings, and even a detention for not attending class. The detention was from Professor Mcgonagall, the strict, unforgiving witch that she was.

He saw Ginny as he was walking into the Great Hall at suppertime, for the first time since that dreadful moment the day before. He turned immediately and left for the library. He sat there with his homework, doing it only to occupy his mind. He had been leaving much of it undone since he had come back to Hogwarts. His damned cleverness had landed him in quite a few N.E.W.T. classes that he had no intention of finishing, much less with the top grades he used to aim for. They wouldn't matter if he succeeded in killing Dumbledore, and they certainly wouldn't matter if he failed.

But tonight he had nothing better to do, so he blazed through his Potions and Transfiguration Homework. He was good at Potions, better than Potter, though that particular person had been showing some sort of unwonted skill in the subject recently. Perhaps he simply hadn't tried hard enough when Snape was teaching.

No matter. He'd stopped being jealous of Potter now.

"Malfoy!"

Ginny was standing at the door, her head tilted, watching him to see what he would do.

"First you stalk me, then you avoid me. If this is some kind of game you're playing, it's not very impressive, even for you."

_Even for you_? What was that supposed to mean? He lowered his head over his work again, muttering, "Sod off, Weasley."

"I won't," she said obstinately, stepping further into the room. "I want to know why you've been following me around. Honestly, it's pretty freaky."

Of course, if she'd noticed it, she thought it was freaky. Draco's chest was tightening, and his mind had gone blank.

"It's your imagination," he snapped at her. "Why would I follow you around?"

"You tell me," she said. "Because it isn't my imagination."

Damn it. What now? He felt a strong urge to hex her, and an equally strong urge to start snogging her, but both were impossible.

"Well, it's been a long time since I've seen you speechless," said Ginny smugly. "What's got your tongue, Malfoy?"

He was starting to feel like a laughingstock at her expense, a feeling that incensed him. He reached for his wand, but he realized that he had no idea what he'd do with it once he pulled it out.

"Leave me alone," he said, his voice coming out in a snarl. "I don't know what you're talking about. You're mental."

"Say what you like, Malfoy, but -"

"Hey, Ginny!"

One of her Gryffindor friends had called her. She stood at the door with a puzzled look on her face.

"Coming," said Ginny. She looked back at Draco. "This isn't over, Malfoy," she snapped, and she hurried after her friend.

Draco looked after her, breathing hard. He had avoided speaking to Ginny _all his life._ And he had never planned for it to turn out like this, if he ever did. She had the upper hand, and she knew it, and there was nothing he could do about it. _This isn't over, Malfoy._ He shuddered and turned back to his homework.

* * *

He awoke very early in the morning to a fresh wave of depression. The night had been spent in the Room of Requirement, and he had a little corpse to show for his pains. It bothered him, the little dead bird; he had felt shocked when he saw it lying on the bare shelf, had felt a little shiver. He hated dead things...And yet he was expected to kill a man in cold blood by the end of the year. He tried not to think about it.

He dressed warmly, taking his heaviest cloak, and left the castle, hurrying through the chilly air. He wanted to be completely alone, away from all the other students. Being up before everyone else, including the sun, brought a calming feeling of isolation. He liked feeling isolated when he wanted not to think.

He stood by the lake, staring into the black water. A chill came off the lake and blew towards him, and he welcomed it gladly.

"Malfoy!"

He nearly jumped out of his skin. For the third time in three days, Ginny Weasley had called his name.

"Bloody hell," he snarled. "Is there no privacy in this place?"

She rubbed her shoulders. She hadn't brought a cloak and wasn't dressed for the cold. "I want to know what you're up to!" she snapped. "Don't get me wrong, I've no interest in whatever grisly plans you've got up your sleeve, except where it concerns _me_! Everywhere I go these days, there you are, and not by accident. I won't let it rest until you've s-s-s-stopped." The last word came out in a rush of chattering teeth.

"I told you, you're mental," said Draco in his most forbidding tone. "What would possess me to follow you around like all your goddamn boyfriends?" What, indeed? He would like to know the answer to that very question.

"I d-don't know, but I intend to f-f-f-find out!"

"Go find a fire. Throw yourself in while you're at it."

She folded her arms and stared up at him obstinately. Her pretty little face was turning blue with the cold, and by contrast Draco felt almost sweaty under his heavy cloak. He did not like being this close to Ginny, it made him elated and uncomfortable all at once.

"Jesus, Weasley. Get lost before you freeze to death."

"N-n-no!"

He didn't know what made him do it. He tugged his cloak off his shoulders and draped it around the girl's shoulders. She drew back, tugging at the cloak as if it was going to burn her. He felt angry that she'd suspect him like that, and satisfaction at her confusion, and a whole lot of other emotions he couldn't explain. Most of all, he felt _happy_ to see little Ginny his great cloak, its expensive edges trailing in the snow, her small face peering bemusedly out from underneath the black hood...warm.

"I don't want your stupid cloak."

"I don't see you giving it back."

She growled and tugged it closer round her. She was clearly too cold to give it back.

"I'm going back to school," Draco said, turning his back on her.

"You - Draco Malfoy, come back!"

He felt a little thrill, but he ignored it and her and climbed back towards the castle, his spirits soaring as they had not in months.


	3. Chapter 3

Ginny was thoroughly confused.

Draco Malfoy was Draco Malfoy. He teased, he taunted, he bullied, he caused trouble, he made war on Harry and Ron and Hermione. He didn't know Ginny from a can of paint, she was sure. And he didn't follow people around and then play games with them when they confronted them about it.

But here he was, doing all that and more.

She had asked him, straight to his face, _three times,_ what he was up to, and he had refused to tell her. He denied everything.

If she was going to be honest with herself, she had known he probably would. Whatever the hell he was watching her for, it was unlikely he'd admit the reason. So it was high time to find another approach.

That night, in the library, as she was struggling with her Potions homework and hoping against hope that her plan would work, just as she was deciding it was no good and she should take her books back to her dorm and work there, she saw him, sitting at a table near the back of the library, on his own. He was _always_ on his own these days.

Ginny took a breath, gathered up her homework, and walked over to his table. He didn't notice her until she dropped her armful in front of him. He glanced up from his book then, with a scowl that very nearly made her pick up her books and leave again.

"I've no interest in talking to you about this again," he began crossly.

"Then you should be happy," said Ginny. "I've come to ask for your help."

"My help?"

"Yes, I stink at Potions."

"Why would I help you? Ask that Mudblood Granger to help you," said Malfoy, turning his back.

"I can't, she's busy."

He looked up at her suspiciously, and she found she was starting to feel really dumb. What had she been thinking? Why would he want to help her? But she remained obstinately still and silent.

"Sit down," he said, shutting up his book.

"What?"

"I'm not saying it again."

Ginny sat down in a flutter of surprise and satisfaction. She opened her book and showed him what she was working on. He reached for the book, his fingers brushing her own for a second, and she noticed that his hand was shaking. She looked up at him in surprise and noted - but had she imagined it? - that his pale face was tinged with color.

"What are you looking at?" he snapped, and she turned back to her book. She realized that she had not expected him to say yes, that she had asked him for help simply to see what he would say. But here he was, really helping her. She smiled to herself and focused on her work.

Over the next half hour, she _stayed_ focused on her work...and also on the boy beside her. Draco spoke in an unusually soft tone, quiet unlike the harsh one he usually took, and he was very patient. Ginny began to wonder if what she'd always thought she knew about him was really true, that he _couldn't_ really have a soft side. She knew she was rather bad at Potions, and Draco exceptionally good, but he never seemed annoyed when she couldn't catch up with him. He was also a surprisingly good teacher, and she found that she clearly understood the work.

When they had come to the last problem, she stared over her homework in amazement. "It's all done!" she said.

"It is," Draco agreed.

"It hasn't even been an hour!" She looked up at him, unable to hide her elation. "It never takes me this short of a time to finish my homework."

He stared at her, his mouth wavering as if he were unsure whether or not to smile. Ginny reached out and squeezed his arm impulsively. "Thanks, Draco, you're a really good teacher."

Draco got to his feet at once, knocking over his chair, and this time he flushed visibly. Muttering something she couldn't hear, he hurried down the aisle and out of sight.

Ginny sat staring after him. This was some of the oddest, most erratic behavior she'd ever witnessed from him, or from anyone. What on earth was going on with him? He almost acted like he was shy of her, but that couldn't be possible, could it? He was Draco bloody Malfoy, wasn't he? Not some lovesick Michael Corner.

She gathered up her books and left the library.

* * *

If Draco Malfoy had felt frustrated with himself before, it was nothing compared to how he felt now.

Now that a little time had gone by and his head was clearer than it had been then, he was more than furious with himself for helping Ginny with her homework. He'd sworn to himself not to even speak to her again, for heaven's sake.

But he had enjoyed it more than anything he'd ever done (at least, that's what it'd felt like). He had been elated at her being so very close, close enough for him to know what she smelled like, and exactly how long her eyelashes were, and how many freckles were clustered on her little nose.

Ginny, on the other hand, had been intently focused on her homework and didn't seem to notice him staring (which was definitely a good thing). The work had stumped her at first, but then he'd seen her have a breakthrough moment, and from then on it'd been easier. The moment she'd looked up at him with the light of success in her eyes, he'd felt his heart quicken.

The moment he'd got away from her almost intoxicating presence, he'd come to his senses. He was supposed to be keeping his distance, like he always had, he reminded himself. No matter that the very thought of talking to Ginny, and spending time with her, made his heart pound. He wasn't going to think about that. He would just avoid her, never talk to her again...

As luck would have it, he broke this resolve the very next morning. As he was trudging mechanically to one of his classes he heard running footsteps behind him.

"Draco!"

Startled to hear his first name spoken at school, Draco whirled. His heart gave a familiar jump to see Ginny Weasley running towards him, waving a sheaf of papers at him.

"Draco, Draco, guess what I got!" she babbled excitedly, stopping in front of him. He'd never seen her so animated; her face was flushed, her big eyes shining.

"What?"

"I got 100 percent on my assignment! 100 percent! I'venevergottena100percentinPotionsbefore!"

Draco watched her dancing eyes, rather transfixed. He couldn't think of anything to say. "Well done."

"Don't you see?! It was you, all you! I couldn't ever get a grade like that in Potions without help." She smiled, and it made her face light up. "Thank you, Draco."

Had she always called him Draco? "You're welcome."

It suddenly occurred to him that here he was, standing in a hallway full of students, and talking to Ginny Weasley. He tried to feel angry at himself, but for some reason the feeling just wouldn't come. How had things come to this? he asked himself in shock. Following her around like a puppy, then tutoring her in the library, and now this. He, Draco Malfoy, was becoming a bloody idiot. Just because of a girl. Maybe she was the only girl he'd ever really liked, and that for her entire existence at Hogwarts, but still, he did not make an idiot of himself for anyone.

Ginny suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Hey, I'll see you around, okay?" she said quickly, starting to turn around.

"I...what?"

"I said, I'll see you around. Bye!"

She turned and walked, almost ran away, her hair swinging behind her. Draco stood where she'd left him. I'll see you around...exactly as if they were friends and spoke to each other every day. He wasn't sure how he felt about that at all.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw why Ginny had left so quickly; Potter and his two henchmen...henchpeople...were trailing up the hallway towards them. So she didn't want to be seen talking to him either...He felt rather disappointed. He turned away, having no desire to engage with the three of them in any way.

And as for Ginny? Should he let her make good on her promise to see him around? He felt a thrill of excitement. She was not being hostile to him, though she certainly had reason to be, she was talking to him, approaching him.

Idiot, you have other things to think about, he told himself. Like the goddamn vanishing cabinet. Let her rot.

Somehow, though, he knew he would do no such thing.


	4. Chapter 4

He talked to her again that afternoon, after school was over.

He had gone out to the Quidditch pitch to think and to be away from everyone for a while. He was in a slightly despondent mood; he climbed up into one of the towers and sat still, staring out into the rain. He hadn't been there long when he suddenly heard a scramble and a little huff behind him. He turned his head and saw a somewhat comic sight: red-faced Ginny Weasley, scrambling up towards him with a bundle under one arm.

"Hi," she said sheepishly, standing up in front of him.

"Hi."

"This is yours," she said unceremoniously, thrusting the bundle at him. He turned it over and saw that it was his cloak, the one he'd given her by the lake.

"You could have kept it," he said.

Ginny flushed red to the roots of her hair, which caused an odd tickle to run up Draco's spine. "Oh," she said. Then, to his surprise, she sat down in a little flutter of robes next to him, close enough that he could feel warmth at his shoulder. He began to pray wildly that he didn't say anything to embarrass himself, something he'd never done before..._so this is how the other half lives, _he thought. He stole a glance at Ginny, who was staring out at the pitch as he had been just a minute again. She really did have very long eyelashes, red like her hair...she suddenly looked up at him, and he felt his color rise at having her catch him looking.

This was ridiculous.

Ginny twisted her small hands in her lap. "Do you come out here a lot?" she asked.

"Do I...what?"

"Don't make me say it again." She ducked her head, hiding her face from him in her hair. Was she being _shy_? Of all things...she came out here in the freaking _rain_ to talk to him and she couldn't find anything to say and got shy.

"No," he said. "Only when I want to be alone."

"Oh," said Ginny, standing up immediately. "I'm sorry, then. I'll go."

"No!" said Draco, inwardly cursing himself for how desperate he sounded. "That is, you don't have to. It's fine."

Ginny sat down, rather red in the face, and resumed her staring into space.

Draco began to wish he had just let her go. It would have fitted his resolve quite nicely. He looked down at Ginny's small feet swinging below them...he wasn't sure why he was so entranced by them...they were just _feet,_ after all...

"So..." said Ginny suddenly, "that whole, um, following me thing...why did you do it?"

"Is that what all this is about?" he asked.

"No! I mean, I want to know, but don't get mad."

He wasn't mad. Maybe he should have gotten mad, but she was looking up at him with an anxious expression that made him change his mind. He looked away, unable and unwilling to answer her, and muttered, "You should go."

"Sorry," Ginny muttered, flushing again. "I really am going this time." She stood up and stepped away from him like he was diseased. He let her go this time, and she didn't look back as she hurried off the pitch.

Ginny dug herself further under her tumbled covers.

It was very nearly midnight, and she still couldn't sleep. She could never sleep when she was excited; when she was very young and Harry Potter would stay at her house, she'd barely close an eye.

At the moment her mind was extremely agitated. She had become consumed by a boy, and she was making an idiot of herself over him, which was something that hadn't happened since she was a little girl and she'd first met Harry Potter in person.

When Ginny got a crush on a boy, a really serious crush, she tended to act entirely unlike herself, which was what had happened at the Quidditch pitch with Malfoy that morning. She'd been wanting to give back his cloak, had seen him sitting alone, and had intended just to hand it to him and leave. But there was something about the way he told her she should have kept it, maybe it was the way he'd looked at her when he said it...Besides, something about him just sitting alone, without Crabbe and Goyle or Pansy and her friends, had peaked her interest. So she had sat down uninvited, as if they were friends. And then he had started staring at her, and blushed when she'd caught him...She'd struggled to find something to break the silence, had come up with one of the dumbest comments ever...The truth was, she was entranced by his behavior. He had been acting most un-Malfoyish in the last few days, and she really wanted to know why. In fact, she was determined to figure it out.

And worst of all, she was replaying these events in her head over and over and over again, and very quickly becoming infatuated with someone she'd strongly disliked not two days ago. Crazy Ginny Weasley, thinking like she could ever break the ice between herself and Draco Malfoy.

* * *

The next morning found Ginny bleary-eyed from lack of sleep. She didn't do well in class at all, and she actually fell asleep during History of Magic. And she didn't see Draco Malfoy anywhere; he wasn't at meals, and though she saw his friends in the hallway she never saw him. The next day was the same, and the day after that. She spent rather a long time trying to evaluate if she actually cared about how he was; she tried to tell herself she didn't, but then she found that she kept worrying about him.

Finally she decided to resort to asking about him. This was a difficult task, as she was not on speaking terms with anyone in Slytherin and the Heads were sure to be curious if she asked after him. But the "trio" were always on the inside loop when it came to that sort of thing, and she realized that if she was going to ask anyone, she'd have to ask them.

"I haven't seen Malfoy in ages, have you?" she asked at dinner, hoping she sounded nonchalant. To her surprise, Ron and Hermione both glanced at Harry, who ducked his head.

"What?" asked Ginny, looking from one to the other.

"You haven't told her?" asked Hermione accusingly.

Harry shook his head, frowning.

"Haven't told me what?" asked Ginny, annoyed.

"Malfoy's in the hospital wing," said Ron brusquely. "Harry had a...um, a sort of fight with him."

"A fight? What'd you do?" demanded Ginny, looking across the table at Harry.

"I, um..." Harry sighed. "You remember the Half-Blood Prince's book, don't you?"

"I thought you'd got rid of it?"

"He didn't, obviously," said Hermione, frowning at Harry.

"Well," said Harry quickly, "there's a spell in there, _Sectumsempra_ \- a spell to use on enemies, the book said, and I used it on Malfoy. But I didn't know what the spell did..."

"What'd you do to Malfoy?" asked Ginny.

"I don't know," returned Harry, staring into space. "I cast the spell, and the next minute he's on the floor with blood everywhere. Then Snape comes in and he...he heals the wounds somehow...I wonder how he did it..."

"What does it matter? You nearly killed him, didn't you!" snapped Ginny. Ron, Hermione and Harry looked at her in surprise, and she realized that she probably shouldn't be worried about Malfoy's health. "You could get into serious trouble for something like that, Harry," she added quickly.

"He already did," said Hermione stiffly. "And we've got rid of that book. Nothing like that's going to happen again, not if we can help it. I mean, Malfoy's Malfoy, but it'd be wrong to use a spell like that, even on him."

"Right," said Ginny, who was barely listening. Was Draco at this very moment lying in the hospital wing near death? The thought made her stomach twist for some reason, and her dinner suddenly tasted dry and unsavory.


	5. Chapter 5

Fifteen minutes later, Ginny was hurrying to the hospital wing. It was, like everything else she did these days, an impulse. She had to do it, had to know what was going on with Malfoy. When she asked Madam Pomfrey about him, the woman looked rather surprised.

"Yes, he's here," she said, "and he's fine. Weak, and needs a bit of time to heal completely, but fine. Why, do _you_ want to go visit him, dear?"

"Yes," said Ginny, a bit embarrassed. "I mean, I - can I? Does he have any other visitors?"

"No," said Madam Pomfrey, making a clucking noise. "The poor boy hasn't had one visitor since Professor Snape brought him here. I don't think many people know he's here. Right, on you go, dear."

As she spoke, she shooed Ginny towards the bed at the end of the room, and went into her office. Ginny approached the side of the bed and sat down, her eyes fixed on Malfoy.

He flat on his back, asleep, his face in a deadly pallor. Ginny thought, with a shudder, that if he were dead and laid in a coffin, he would look almost exactly like this. Except that his hair wouldn't be so ruffled...She reached out and smoothed it against his forehead, which felt cold under her hand.

Draco's eyes opened at once, and Ginny snatched her hand away, suddenly feeling self-conscious. She had no business visiting him, and what was he going to think of her, stroking his face like he was her only child or something...He stared at her silently for a long time, and she could do nothing but stare back, as she didn't want to be the one to break the silence.

After a while it finally drove her crazy. She hated silence.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Not that great," he answered.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't know what happened," he said, his voice angry and bitter.

"Harry told me what happened," said Ginny, realizing a bit too late that it was not the wisest thing to say. A hardened sneer, the type she was used to seeing from him, crossed Draco's face, and he turned his head away.

"Oh? And did Saint Potter tell you exactly how he tried to kill me?"

Ginny started to say that it had been an accident, that Harry hadn't _tried_ to kill Draco. But she realized that that wouldn't help matters any, and she had no chance of convincing Draco that Harry hadn't cast the spell with the intent to kill, given that the spell had almost been fatal. "Yes," she said quietly.

"Come to gloat, have you then, Weasley?" he said, his tone harsh.

"No!" snapped Ginny, piqued. "I came because I really wanted to see how you were! You don't have to be such a jerk all the time."

"You really wanted..." He stared at her incredulously. "Really? No, I'm dreaming again, aren't I?"

"_Again_?" repeated Ginny. "So you dream about me, do you?"

"What?" he said, but his face flushed slightly as he spoke.

For some reason that she didn't care to think too much about, this elated Ginny, but she decided not to press the point.

"Do you like chess?" she asked instead.

"Why?"

"Well," said Ginny tactlessly, "Madam Pomfrey said you didn't have any visitors, so I thought you must be pretty bored."

Draco scowled blackly. "I don't want your company."

"Don't be so touchy," she said, slightly affronted. "Besides, I'm brilliant at chess."

"I don't care how good you think you are, I'm better."

"Let's play then," said Ginny in her most persuasive tone. She got up and found a chess board and, bringing to the small table by Draco's bedside, set it up hastily. When she sat down, he spun the board so that the white side faced her.

"You're being nice to me!" she said, surprised.

"I'm allowed."

"No, you're not. I mean, you are!" she added, as he raised his eyebrows. "It's just that you never - I mean, not never, but you don't really - oh, nevermind," she finished, feeling the heat rise in her face.

Draco laughed suddenly. Thinking he was making fun of her, Ginny looked up, ready to defend herself, and saw that it was a real genuine laugh, without his usual scorn, his grey eyes sparkling with fun. She felt rather confused; she didn't know at all what to do with a happy Draco.

And she had never really taken the time to look at his eyes like that. They were light, she knew that, but up close she saw that they were a sort of stone blue that sometimes looked grey.

Draco had stopped laughing and was looking at her curiously, and she realized with a bit of a start that she was staring. So she started the game, quickly, before he could say anything.

* * *

Ginny and Draco spent nearly two hours playing chess. They were both very good, though Draco was a better strategist; by the end of the last game he had two on her. Ginny still found that she was enjoying herself far more than she did when she played with Ron, who grumbled endlessly every time he lost, Hermione, who wasn't very good at all, or even Harry, who remained completely silent while he was playing. Draco was quiet, but he had a habit of making some dry comment every now and then that made her laugh. And it felt good to laugh, to really _laugh_ and not pretend. She hadn't truly enjoyed herself like this since she left the Burrow last autumn for school.

"Defeated again, Weasley," said Draco smugly as the game came to a close. "So much for you being _brilliant_ at chess."

"Just you wait!" cried Ginny. "You won that last game because you were lucky."

"Ah, you have a lot to learn. There's no such thing as luck in chess, Weasley, it's all strategy."

"Say what you like, you won by a wing and a prayer. You know you did!"

"Why - Miss Weasley!" Madam Pomfrey called, hurrying towards the two of them with a small cup in her hand. "It's high time for you to be gone, young lady."

"Why, what time is it?" asked Ginny, looking around for a clock.

"Very nearly six, my dear. And you need rest, and this," she added to Draco, handing him the cup.

Draco groaned. "Not that again."

"Good night, Draco," said Ginny cheerfully, standing up. "I had fun," she added honestly.

He fiddled with the cup and didn't look at her. "Did you, now?"

"And - and I'll come back tomorrow, if you like," Ginny added in a rush, regretting her words instantly. What would he say? There was a long, rather dreadful pause, in which only the impatient tapping of Madam Pomfrey's foot could be heard.

"All right, Ginny," he said softly, turning away so she couldn't see his face. "Tomorrow, then."

She was so surprised by his gentle tone of voice that it was only later, when she was nearly asleep, that Ginny realized he'd called by her own first name.


	6. Chapter 6

This was it, it was official.

Draco Malfoy was head over heels in love with Ginny Weasley.

It was one thing to pine after her from a distance, but to actually spend time with her was a different matter; he found he was insatiably in love with her. He loved her quick temper and her easy laugh; he loved how easily she got flustered; he loved the way she said _Draco_, he loved her smile, her hair, her eyes, her freckles, everything. He couldn't stop thinking about her and replaying every second of the hours she'd spent with him...and wondering, desperately wondering, why she had come to visit him...why she had sat down and spent all that time with him...and, most of all, why she'd wanted to come back.

The next day was pure torture. He had absolutely nothing to do but lie in bed and think about vanishing cabinets and red-headed girls. It was nearly evening, and the shadows in the room were growing long and tilted, when he heard the sound of footsteps hurrying to the hospital wing. It was Ginny, just as she had promised.

She came trotting up to his bed, smiling and looking windblown. A fresh, flowery, out-door smell hung round her, reminding Draco just how much he wanted up and out of this bed. He noticed she held an armful of books and parchment.

"Hi," she said cheerfully. "I got all the teachers to give me your homework."

"You brought me homework. And am I supposed to be pleased and grateful?"

She tilted her head, but he could tell she knew he was teasing. "At least it'll occupy your time."

"Give it here."

She handed him all the books and then plopped down in the chair next to him. He really was grateful, and he wished he could just tell her that, but those words wouldn't come easily. If their positions were reversed, she would thank him, he was sure...but then, that was Ginny, who somehow found it easy to be nice most of the time.

"Do you feel any better?" she asked.

"A little."

"Draco -" she paused, then continued carefully, "how'd you really get hurt? I mean, what really happened? Har - I mean, I heard that you had a duel."

Harry. Why was it that some mention of Potter was made in every conversation someone made with him? Potter this, Potter that, Potter Potter Potter, bet you Potter can do it better.

"He just barged in on me and started hexing me," he growled, well aware that he was lying. He'd been well aware of Potter's presence, and he had been the first one to try to hex him. But he hardly cared, as long as Ginny was on his side.

"What were you doing?" asked Ginny artlessly. Then she looked abashed and added, "I probably shouldn't ask, sorry. It doesn't matter." But she still looked hopeful, as if she wished he would tell her.

He had no intention of doing that, and as he had nothing to say, he remained silent.

Ginny leaned back and folded her arms. Draco thought, with a quickening of his heartbeat, that she couldn't possibly know what that particular pose did to her chest. He forced himself to look away, and as he did so, he heard footsteps and voices coming towards them - familiar voices. Ginny started and paled; there was her brother's voice, along with Potter and Granger. "Come _on,_ Harry," Granger was saying, in her sharp, bossy tone, "if there's _anywhere_ we haven't looked, it's the hospital wing."

Ginny shrieked, albeit very softly. There was nowhere for her to hide. Panicked, Draco did the only thing he could think of: he reached for his wand and hissed, "_Mus Verto!_" under his breath, hoping against hope that he'd gotten the spell right and that he'd be able to turn her back. Seconds later, where Ginny Weasley had been standing, there was only a tiny, red-haired mouse, squeaking madly and darting around disorientedly. Draco reached down and scooped her up and dived underneath the covers, holding his breath. Ginny squeaked and scrabbled in his hand, and he realized he was clutching her far too tight. He let her go, and she became still.

It seemed like an eternity later that the Trio left the room, arguing with each other. They'd been looking for something, it seemed, and were all quite angry with each other for having lost it. Draco sat up, and Ginny ran onto the covers in front of him and sat there, watching him expectantly with great, beady blue eyes. He'd never seen a blue-eyed mouse before.

"_Hamanus Reverto!_" he said, and the mouse turned back to an extremely disoriented Ginny Weasley who immediately lost her balance and tumbled against him. His breath caught in his throat, and he suddenly became very aware of the flowery scent in her red hair and her small hands against his chest. His brain had gone a bit fuzzy.

She raised her head to look at him, her face bright red, her eyes shining. Her mouth was parted a little, what a soft-looking mouth it was...

He barely even thought about it. He leaned down and kissed her as gently as he knew how.

He heard her give a little squeak of surprise before he pulled away; the whole thing had barely lasted more than a second.

Ginny pushed away from him and slid off of his bed, staring at him. "What was that for?" she demanded, her face flushed. "You can't just _kiss_ me!"

"You liked it," he returned, waiting for her to deny it or laugh it off.

"That isn't the point at all!" she answered indignantly, but he felt his heart soar in triumph; he'd kissed her, finally, and she had liked it. He felt a silly grin spreading over his face, but he hardly even cared.

Ginny huffed and reached for her bag. "I'm leaving," she announced icily.

"Not even a little game of chess?"

"I think you have quite enough to do," she returned, nodding at the stack of homework she'd brought him.

"You could bring yours up and do it with me."

"No!" she said, turning her back. "Goodbye, Draco!"

"See you later, Ginny."

He could tell she understood the significance of his choice of words. She paused, huffed again and flounced out of the room. Draco leaned back against his pillow, his breath finally coming at a more normal speed. It occurred to him he should regret just kissing her without her consent, but it had hardly even been a real kiss, and anyway he wouldn't have given up the little moment for anything. Still grinning, he reached for his Potions book and began to study.


	7. Chapter 7

Ginny sped back to the common room, her mind in a whirl.

So _this_ was what it was all about. The stalking, the staring, the strange behavior.

Draco Malfoy LIKED her, Ginny Weasley. She'd never have ever guessed it.

She could still feel the slight tremor that had gone through him when she touched him, could still feel the press of his mouth. She could still see the strangely unguarded look in his eyes when he pulled away, and how it had made him look almost...gentle. She could also remember, with a burning face, how she'd almost kissed him back, probably would have if it'd lasted longer.

And now she was confused. Being obsessed with him was one thing, having a little crush was another...but actually really _liking_ him was impossible, right? She might think he was attractive or something, but he'd always had a rather repellent personality. Always, that is, until the last few days. She recalled all their brief, awkward conversations, right up the the long hours she'd spent with him the day before. And then, this. She couldn't deny that she had enjoyed that little moment.

She groaned. _Get a hold of yourself, Ginny. _It was just a kiss. And one from Draco Malfoy of all people, who had probably snogged tons of girls he didn't like at all.

She let herself into the portrait hole and walked into the common room, only to be descended upon by Ron and Hermione. Harry remained seated, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Where have you been?" demanded Ron.

"Around," said Ginny. "Why, have you missed me?"

"Yes, yesterday after school, and I haven't seen you at all today. We thought - heavens, Ginny, I don't know what we thought -"

"Well, think no longer. Here I am," said Ginny, and tried to side-step him.

"Where were you?" he asked again, intercepting her.

"Ron," said Harry, "I don't think anything's much the matter -"

"You never wander around after school, Ginny," Ron said, ignoring him.

"So I changed my routine for once. Big deal! Excuse me, I have homework, Ron."

"Why don't you ask Malfoy to help you?" asked Seamus Finnigan, looking around from the round table where he sat reading.

"What?!" Ginny shrieked. How could he possibly know about that?

"I saw you in the library the other day," said Finnigan. "What's it all about?"

"_Malfoy_?" said Hermione. "Wait a minute, is _that_ why you asking about him the other day?"

"Why will you all make a big deal out of nothing?" Ginny demanded, knowing she was running out of excuses. "I just wondered why I wasn't seeing him around."

"And then you asked him to help you with homework?" asked Harry.

Ginny glared at the back of Finnigan's head. This was all _his_ fault. Like anyone had asked _him_ to butt in. "It just so happens he's really good at Potions."

"So am I!" said Hermione, outraged. "You could have asked me!"

"You were busy."

"Not _that_ busy!"

"Look!" Ginny snapped, defeated. "I asked him once. I'll probably never do it again, all right?"

"Did he help you?" asked Harry, sounding genuinely curious.

"No," lied Ginny, and hurried past Ron up to her room; this time he let her go.

That encounter certainly had not helped her clear her head; it had instead reminded her with striking clarity that Draco Malfoy was not supposed to be a kind, friendly person under any circumstances. He was cruel and vile and rude and a bully, as his many taunts to Harry, Ron and especially Hermione had proved.

But it was possible that that was all a facade wasn't it. People could act like anything, and Malfoy had a lot going against him, including his cruel, vile, rude, bullying father. After all, he had offered to be friends with Harry before they were sorted, or so she'd heard. She'd always thought that he must be jealous of Harry, and the way he took offence when she mentioned his name only served to strengthen that notion. And he treated his friends well enough. Everyone was like that, weren't they? They treated the people they liked and respected well and were rude to people they disliked?

But she was kidding herself. This was Draco Malfoy. This was the boy who hated her family and friends and everything that she stood for.

But then, why had he kissed her?

* * *

It was not in Ginny's nature to leave anything unresolved, especially something that bothered her. So she decided to confront Draco Malfoy yet again, the first opportunity she got.

It didn't take her long; Draco was finally well enough to walk about the castle and attend classes. He looked thinner and paler than ever, but no one seemed to notice that.

Ginny saw him in the hallway right before class started, and immediately turned to walk away. Then she scolded herself for getting so nervous and told her fast-beating heart to get in order.

She took a deep breath and walked up to him.

"Draco!?"

He whirled immediately. "Ginny?" he said, his eyes darting. "What do you want?"

"I want to talk to you," Ginny answered, feeling a sudden nervous tickle in her stomach. Damn it. Damn Draco Malfoy for making her all fluttery.

Draco followed her to a deserted hallway and into an alcove; there were no deserted classrooms this time of day. "What is it?"

Ginny blew out her breath. "Look, Draco, I - I really want to know what's going on, okay" She could feel her face heating already and wished he wouldn't keep looking at her mouth. "If - you know - it meant anything -"

"If _what_ meant anything?" he asked, in a rather low voice. The sound of it made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

"You know - everything. The way you've been acting. The...that kiss. What's all that about?"

He stepped closer to her, and closer... She could smell him, he smelled...exactly as one thought he would: amazing, and like he was worth a million Galleons. "Stop!" she insisted, putting out her hand. It landed on his chest, and she felt his heart pounding under her fingers, faster than any heart had a right to pound...

"You're a smart girl. I'm sure you know what it's all about, Ginny," he said. She wished he wouldn't _whisper_ like that. It made her shiver all over.

"Oh, I'd rather not guess," she said, breathlessly.

"Oh?"

She could feel his breath against her mouth now. Her heart was doing a polka.

"Oh."

He lowered his head and kissed her, slowly and surely. He pressed his tongue between her tight shut lips, and without warning Ginny's brain floated away and she started kissing him back. His neck was hot under her hands, and his kiss became rapidly more passionate.

It was only a minute later, when she tugged away, that she realized fully what had happened. "Oh, _no_!" she exclaimed, stepping away from Draco.

"Oh, no?" he echoed, looking a bit worried. "What do you mean?"

"This isn't what this was supposed to be!"

Draco stared at her, flushed, running a hand through his pale hair. He looked so...dare she think it..._cute_ like that that she almost lost her resolve.

"I mean," she hurried on, "I really mean to know - you know, if you really like me or not."

"If I really - !"

"If you're not just playing around, I mean."

He stared at her blankly. "I'm not playing around! I, um..." he hesitated, flushing a brilliant red.

"You what?"

He glanced around as if he were afraid someone might hear him, then looked her in the eye.

"I really do like you, Ginny."

Even as he spoke, Ginny Weasley's face faded away into bright green drapery; he never got to see her reaction, never got to hear what she was going to say, because she was gone and he was wide awake and it was over and it had _all been a dream_.

He realized he was sweating. He sat up, disoriented. Was it possible that none of those things, which he seemed to remember vividly, had really happened? That he had never really spoken to Ginny at all? He'd dreamed the _entire thing_?

As he thought about it, he realized that it had indeed a dream. The only thing that was real, real as it had always been, was that same strange obsession with Ginny he'd had since the second year. But she had never talked to him, nor he to her, and things were as they'd always been.

"Damn it," he growled, pulling his pillow over his head, feeling bitterly disappointed. "_Damn it_."

Back in Gryffindor tower, Ginny awoke with a sudden start, a vision of blond hair and grey eyes fading away before her. She sat bolt upright, her mind whirling.

Had she just dreamed about...about _Draco Malfoy_?

* * *

**AN: Thank you so, so much for reading! Especially if you're one of the people that's been reading since I first started this over a year ago. YOU ROCK! Please drop a review to let me know what you think, it would be much appreciated.**

**All the best, Kenzie 3**


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